


Say it for me

by Morin



Category: The Administration - Manna Francis
Genre: BDSM, Consensual Kink, D/s, Face Slapping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morin/pseuds/Morin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"P-please", said Warrick, almost whispering. He knelt on the rug, his hands cuffed behind his back, head bowed. They’ve been doing this – whatever this is – for a few months, but Toreth surprised him every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say it for me

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime between "Friday" and "Pancakes" in "Quid pro quo".

"Say it for me."  
"P-please", said Warrick, almost whispering. He knelt on the rug, his hands cuffed behind his back, head bowed. They’ve been doing this – whatever _this_ is – for a few months, but Toreth surprised him every time.  
He lifted his head to look at Toreth, leaning against the wall, wearing a half smile, looking down at him. 

"Again", said Toreth. 

The effort of speaking, of asking for it, made Warrick stammer and sent a faint fire to his groin. Behind his back, he felt his wrists pull at the cuffs as he let his shoulders slump and stared at Toreth's toes. He spoke louder. "Please. hurt me."

Toreth used his cold voice, the game voice. "Again". 

It was easier this time. "Please, I want you to hurt me. I-I need..." He looked up again. 

Toreth kept a frozen face and tone, but his eyes, and cock, gave away his arousal. 

Warrick looked him straight in the eye, and the words came more easily. "I need you to hurt me. Please. I need you to touch me. I need you to –" 

Toreth bent down and kissed him, bruisingly hard, tangling his hand in his hair and pulling backwards. Warrick ran out of air. As Toreth’s lips pulled away, Warrick panted, not waiting for the words. "Pl-please", he breathed. "Please". 

When Toreth stood up straight again, he had a frightening gleam in his eyes, a gleam suggesting something new and exciting. He tugged at Warrick's hair, not painfully, but a reminder of his state. Gentle fingers positioned his face, straight and centered. "Keep your head up and your eyes open. You are going to ask me for each and every one, and you are going to watch them, and you won't move or cry out. Do you understand?"

Warrick winced as he understood. It meant if he didn’t play the game up to standard - if he tried to back away even slightly from his best game - Toreth will leave. No second chances. 

He nodded, and slowly raised his eyes to meet Toreth's. "I understand. Yes." 

Toreth raised a single eyebrow.

Warrick didn't wait for more prodding. "Please, hit me". He tried to keep his eyes focused on Toreth's face, as his arm drew back and came back down. Not as hard as Warrick expected it would be, but his cheek hurt for a fraction of a second before Toreth’s hand actually reached his face. His head was thrown just a bit to the left and he centered it again, instinctively.

"Again", he said, exactly matching Toreth's earlier tone.

The next strike hit almost immediately, much harder than the first, so quickly he barely saw Toreth’s hand coming. Toreth obviously didn't find this tone humorous. Or as amusing as Warrick found it, anyway, even though he was grinning.

Despite the pain, Warrick didn't wait to ask for the next one. If he stopped talking, he felt, he may not be able to find his voice again. "Don't stop. Hit me. Please. Pl--" 

Warrick's eyes were open, but he saw less and less. Toreth's eyes, his lips, and the pain were all that remained as he asked again and again. His mouth grew dry; the sharp, stinging pain gradually dissolving into constant, continuous, fuzzy-edged pain. Toreth’s beat kept almost steady, Never slowing, never stopping. Warrick’s words became less clear and his need more urgent. Even the need grew more vague as Toreth became the only thing in his world – the only one who could make this continue, or stop, or change. 

He couldn't hear his own words anymore. He wasn't sure what is it he was asking for, but it didn't matter, because Toreth will do whatever he wants to do. 

That realization brought relief, because the only thing that mattered, in this moment in time, was to hold his position for as long as Toreth wanted him to.

A sudden pain from his nipple caused him to throw his head back and moan, despite trying to bite the sound back. He opened his eyes, surprised, only then realizing he shut them. Toreth's face was close to his, and for a second Warrick thought he not only lost the game, but failed at it.

Then Toreth brought his mouth near Warrick’s ear, and whispered threats and promises trailing up and down his spine so that he couldn’t keep from shivering, no matter how hard he tried. He nearly sobbed when he begged, this time, for Toreth to fuck him.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank [the_ragnarok](http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok) & [Eumelia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Eumelia) for Beta-ing.


End file.
